


The Freedom That We Found

by BerlinKabarett



Series: No Sweeter Innocence than This [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Emotionally Repressed, I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Stucky - Freeform, Unresolved Emotional Tension, exploration of feelings, out-of-cryo Bucky, overcoming stigma, winter soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7970572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerlinKabarett/pseuds/BerlinKabarett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Civil War, a way is found to remove the HYDRA programming that holds Bucky ransom inside his own head. After the crisis is laid to rest and the dust settles, Steve finally has Bucky back for good. But without the distraction of desperation and civil war, things become difficult, confusing, and in the end, liberating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fix You

**Author's Note:**

> Hallo, ihr Lieben. This is an idea that has woven itself together in the weeks since watching Civil War, and though the Avengers saga is woefully unlikely to unfold in such a way as this (one can but dream), it is at least, for the time being, canon-faithful (mostly).
> 
> The tags are fairly sparse at the moment since I am still early in the writing process, but more will be added as chapters appear. It will probably end up rated Mature, but for now nothing very untoward has occurred.
> 
> Edit: as the story has evolved in the writing, it has been edited accordingly, including the title, and included in a series I'm writing.

Steve had, for the time since Bucky's decision to go back under, remained in T'challa's facility. It had been a month now, and though Steve had inwardly tried to convince himself that there was no reason for him to stay, to leave the place and the unpleasant triggers it held, he simply had no idea what he should do.

The Avengers were lost to him now; his choice to remain by Bucky's side no matter what had cost a high price. And not just for him. The team had been irrevocably torn asunder; when Tony had declared him unfit to bear the vibranium shield if he chose Bucky, he had dropped it without hesitation. He was no longer Captain America.

  
_"I don't know if I'm worth all this, Steve..."_

 

He had set his jaw, shouldered Bucky's weight against him and strode onwards without looking back at the metal-clad and broken man behind him.

 

_"I'm with you till the end of the line."_

 

So sometimes, more than he cared to admit, he found himself wandering the corridors of the facility, his feet somehow always finding their way to the cryo chamber. At least he could see Bucky, if not talk to him. His eyes would scan the face of his oldest friend through the glass, searching for something he couldn't even place. Was he sleeping peacefully? Dreaming?

It had been Bucky's decision to go back under, in case someone found a way to use him as a weapon again. Steve could understand that, and he didn't try to persuade him otherwise, but it was still difficult.

"I don't know what to do now, pal," Steve murmured in a low voice as he stood before the cryo chamber, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, eyes lingering on Bucky's sleeping face before lowering to the ground. He felt lost, his heart heavy. "I can't go back. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s gone. Tony and the others.. well." He smiled with a huff, but it was humourless. "That bridge is well and truly burned. My fault." He looked around him at the clinical white walls and medical apparatus, lips pressed into a thin line. "So, I was thinking.. I'm gonna ask T'Challa to, um, to put me under too. He said he's working on finding a way to get HYDRA out of your head.. I can't exactly help." He gave a thin smile, his gaze finally returning to Bucky's impassive face. "You're all I've got, now, Buck."

Steve hadn't really expected to see anyone when he at last left the cryo-lab, but he was met by the accosting flash of red that was the Vision standing beside Wanda Maximoff. He gave a start, muscles tensing; the last time he had seen Vision was when the red creature had almost brought a control tower crashing down on him.

"You're not taking him," he snapped quickly, taking a nervous step backwards through the door. Vision was incredibly powerful, and Steve knew he wouldn't have a chance against him if it came to it; but he'd still fight to his own death to stop the red synthetic from taking Bucky.

Luckily, it didn't come to that, as Vision held out one red hand in an attempt to calm the blond man.  

"Captain Rogers," came the Vision's calm voice, which had been so familiar as that of Stark's AGI, JARVIS. "We thought we might find you here."

"What-" Steve shook his head softly, a crinkle on his brow. "What are you both doing here? You're not here for Bucky?" His heart wasn't hammering quite as fast now, but he was still suspicious.

"Well yes, we are here for him-" -Steve tensed again- "but not like that. Perhaps Ms. Maximoff can explain." Vision looked at the red haired woman beside him, who had until this point remained silent.

She smiled nervously at Steve. "I'm here to help."

 

\---

 

Steve stood back from where Wanda sat beside Bucky, her delicate, ringed hands weaving the strange tendrils of red magic as she whispered into the man's ear.

He watched tersely, scanning Bucky's face for signs of discomfort or, really, anything-- but his friend appeared to visibly relax and fall into the scarlet witch's spell.

"Why are you helping us?" Steve asked quietly, eyes not leaving the scene before him as he addressed Vision, who stood back against the wall, watching Wanda weave her spell. "You were against us before."

Vision didn't answer for a long while, his bright eyes piercing as they gazed out from his metallic red synthetic skin. "After your departure, we remained to round up those who had joined your.. mutiny."

Steve scoffed at Vision's choice of words, but allowed him to continue.

"Ms. Maximoff.." Vision's strange face shifted into an expression of what Steve could only call fondness, "Wanda," he corrected himself, "she and I spoke at great length about the situation. I came to be informed of your friend's innocence regarding Vienna and other recent incidents. Though I am still opposed to your actions regarding the Sokovia Accords," Vision levelled his gaze at Steve, "I am sympathetic to your friend's troubles. I am only beginning to understand how complex and contradictory the minds of humans can be," Vision added distantly. "And I have come to hold a great deal of respect for Wanda. She is wise beyond her years. When we heard of the extent to which your friend suffers from HYDRA mind programming, and Wanda began to wonder if she could be of assistance..." Vision trailed off, assuming Steve could arrive at the conclusion himself.

The blond let Vision's words sink in, his muscular arms crossing over his broad chest, face thoughtful. Wanda had been sympathetic to Steve and Bucky all along, and it didn't hurt that Vision had come to care for the young witch. But could she help Bucky? Steve wondered if a simple spell from Wanda could really undo years of subliminal conditioning that had transformed his dearest friend into the Winter Solder, a ruthless assassin. But of course he'd experienced her power over the mind first hand during the Ultron crisis. They were lucky to have her on their side now.

\---

"No, Steve, you're not doing that," Bucky argued against his friend, his voice tight. "What if it didn't work? What if I turn back and hurt someone? Kill someone?" His face was creased with anxiety, the idea that had just been proposed enough to almost put him into a panic.

Steve put his hands on Bucky's shoulders and met his eyes. "Buck, there's nothing to worry about. It's just a test to make sure HYDRA's gone from your head."

Bucky hung his head, shaking it from side to side, his long chestnut hair obscuring his features for a moment. "And if it's not? You'll have to fight me. I could hurt you."

"Buck, if we don't test it now, in the safety of this lab with Wanda and Vision here, and we leave for someplace else, and - god forbid - someone uses those words on you where there're innocent bystanders and no help? What if you turn, then?" Bucky was silent, so Steve continued. "Wanda did her best to lift that stuff out of your head. I can tell you firsthand that she's incredibly powerful - and even if you did turn, she can zap you right back. She's right here with us. Right, Wanda?"

The redhead smiled, nodding encouragement to Bucky, who looked like a terrified rabbit in the headlights at the prospect of what they were suggesting. "Bucky, trust us."

Bucky looked from Wanda to Vision, and finally back at Steve, searching his friend's eyes for reassurance. He seemed to find some strength there, and his jaw set. "Well.." he sighed, "I guess that without my metal arm I might be easier to take down if it comes to it."

Steve's hands on Bucky's shoulders gave them a brief squeeze of wordless encouragement. "All right. Are you ready?"

Bucky felt his heart thundering inside his chest. He gave a couple of deep breaths and then, tensely, he nodded.

**_"Longing..."_ **

\-----


	2. A Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter, written and hidden away, unsent.

_"You know, even when I was a skinny runt, I had a real good memory. That was the one thing I had over you. You were always terrible with names, especially. One night on the eastern front, with the Commandos, I asked you what ever happened with Connie - if you kept in touch, if it went further than dancing. "Who?" you asked me. I just shook my head, and you pulled one of your roguish smiles and we laughed. I remember the names of the girls you had, every one, but you never did. Isn't that dumb?_

_I miss you, Buck._

_Maybe at the back of my mind somewhere I always had a feeling you meant more to me than a good buddy. I could never have told you, I couldn't even choke it out in confession back in Red Hook before the war. It's not something that I could articulate exactly, and I certainly didn't resent you and all your girls. I was a little jealous of you, if anything, for all the attention you got, but I was proud of the guy you were. You stuck up for me even when I didn't want you to, and even though it ticked me off no end, I was happy that you stuck around for a pint-sized punk like I was._

_I guess I became aware that something had changed with us when we busted you and the others out of that facility behind enemy lines. I remember you looked at me differently. I mean, of course you did; you left a skinny, half-deaf, asthmatic ninety pounder back in Brooklyn - next thing you know, not-so-scrawny Steve is rescuing you from some hellhole in Europe. But even after the initial adjustment period, you changed. You talked less, but you were more present. I can't describe it exactly, but our dynamic changed. I became the big guy looking out for you. Maybe a little bit of you resented that, but you were always the first one to come out in support of me, back up my corner; you trusted my lead. I can't begin to tell you how much I needed that support you gave me amid all the chaos of those years._

_And at the end of the day when we finally got to park our weary backsides down for the night and try to rest, your stupid jokes and smile that never got tired kept my spirits up. You were like a cool drink after a desert march._

_I didn't think, even then, that it would be possible, but - can love bloom even on a battlefield? Can a soldier love his brother in arms? I knew all the jokes and slurs about nancy boys. I was sure we weren't anything like those guys. But when we had to go on different missions occasionally, my chest ached. I sucked it up._

_And that day when I lost you, I think a part of me died too. It consumed me. You were my only friend for years, we grew up together, we fought together. You were my brother, and so much more. But all those chances I could have said something, and I didn't. I was scared, I guess, didn't even want to think the words. Times were different back then. I didn't want to test how far I could strain our friendship - I was scared of losing you, of having you look at me with even a hint of disgust. I told myself that you wouldn't turn your back on me, no matter what, but I just couldn't do it. I had to shut that off. I did have the occasional thought that I was just sick - some trauma sending my head for a loop, confusing my friendship with you as something else._

_Peggy was so great, she helped me while I tried to process my grief. The booze certainly hadn't done anything, tears filling up the empty glasses as soon as I'd knocked them back. She deserved more than I was able to give her, and I regret not doing better by her._

_But when that aircraft was going down towards the ice, amongst the many flashes of thoughts that race through a man's head when he faces imminent death, one thought felt very clear, and it was a real selfish one - at least I'd get to see you again._

_/I'm comin' home soon, Bucky./_


End file.
